The sandman's beautiful features twist into a crude resemblance of a Medusa's. Her "hair" looking like thrashing, hissing snakes, her "eyes" looking slit, and her "teeth" elongating into fangs.
"Wretched flame and shadow! I'll grind your husks to dust!"
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"Really," Kwin quietly agrees with Izra. "How would you even fight something like that?"
Djehuti: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (16) + 8 = 24
Kwin: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (19) + 4 = 23
Torin: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (18) + 2 = 20
Sandman: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (14) + 5 = 19
Izra: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (16) + 2 = 18
Ahmed: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (11) + 2 = 13
Koshukhep: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (1) + 3 = 4
Suri: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (6) + 1 = 7
"Ah, what the hell," declares Kwin as he suddenly tears off int the room, making a spinning jump attack at the last moment.
"Wait!" Izra called, but it was too late to stop Kwin. "Try blunt weapons," she said to the others, "blades probably will not cut sand terribly effectively."
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Torin moves into the room and fires a blunt arrow at the creature:
Kwin's sword just seems to slice through, with no detrimental effect. However, Torin's arrow lands with all the force of a falling anvil.
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Djehuti moves to get close enough to cast a spell, following Torin into the courtyard. He ignores the creature's magical aura and a cone of coruscating lights blast out of his hand at the monster.
The sandwoman blinks away the blinding lights with no other effects. "I'll drown you in dust last, elf!"
She then slams her fists into Kwin.
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"You'll only be fit to scratch over leavings when I'm done with you!" Koshukhep threatened, prowling around the creature before launching himself at it with claws outstretched.
The two D'jinn rush into the room after their friends, hoping to be of some help, and both promptly fall asleep, finding themselves especially susceptible to the other elemental's magic.
Izra watched as her companions leapt into the fray - and promptly fell victim to the sand-thing's aura of sleep. In Kwin's case, he wasn't asleep, but looked like another hit would level him.
This was Not Good. Izra herself had little she could do, offensively speaking, and she didn't dare enter the room to get to Kwin. If she fell to the thing's powers, they were all likely to die.
But she hadn't realized just how far the creature's power extended. Seeing Ahmed had fallen asleep at her feet, she quickly knelt and slapped him, but then felt the waves of lethargy beginning to assault her own mind. Her eyes flashing with angry blue light, Izra snarled, and pinched her own wrist until she felt the drowsiness leave her.
Having fought off the effects, Izra gave her slumbering companion another rough slap. "Wake up, Ahmed! Would a Son of Fire be caught slumbering when danger approaches? I would think you had slumbered enough, these hundreds of years!"
Kwin is surprised as his exquisitely-executed strike passes right through the sand creature without harming it. He's surprised again as the thing lashes out and slams him with astounding force. And he's surprised once more upon seeing friends dropping (and disappearing) as he staggers back into position.
But when the animated sand jerks in reaction to Torin's blunted arrow, the import of Izra's words sinks in. Tossing his sword aside, he whips out his quarterstaff and spins it.
Typically wearing a hat and rarely in natural kitsune form, his vulpine ears laying flat and fangs baring are not oft-seen sights. A low growl builds into a war cry full of animalistic fury as he smoothly crouches, spins his staff one last time and pounces, lashing out at the thing.
"Get them out of here!" he shouts with a growl as he readies his next maneuver.
Immune to the creature's formidable aura, Djehuti rushes over to Koshukhep and slaps the catfolk in the face. "Wake up!"
Koshukhep, Ahmed and Suri fell asleep where they stood. The bizarre power of the sandwoman overcoming them. Izra slapped Ahmed awake. She turned to do the same to Suri only to be horrified when she saw her simply vanish in a spout of flame!
Oblivious to the drama unfolding behind him, Kwin managed to land a heavy blow with his quarterstaff.
One moment Suri was battling beside her beloved the next she felt herself consumed by fire. But this fire did not destroy her. It cleansed and restored her. Like the fabled phoenix, she born anew in a place that was no place at all. She felt her power, her knowledge, her gift of the ultimate power - The Wish! How had she forgotten! She was a chosen of Sarenrae! But then she remembered. She had given it up for Ahmed. Her beloved. But that was nothing compared to what he had given up for her.
And then suddenly she was someplace else. And her knowledge of her true power swept away from her again as if it was never there.
Suri existed again, as an Efreet. Her true form. Powerful beyond the wildest dreams of most mortals. She looked up and saw the twisting, majestic, towering spires of a place she hadn't seen in centuries. Her birth place. Her home.
Somehow she had returned to the City of Brass.
But this place held no beauty for her. Not without her beloved. In a panic, she cried out for him. But he was nowhere to be found.
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"Wake up boys! This is not time to be sleeping on the job!"
Dipping into his quiver, Torin pulls out a pair of blunt arrows and sets his bow to sing.
Still unsure of just how strong the magical field of sleep might be, Izra chose not to get closer, though she did want to wake Koshu. "Sorry, kitty" she whispered, before magically dousing the sleeping catfolk with 4 gallons of cool water.
Kwin lashes out at the thing with an unusual technique intended to strike with both ends of the staff, one immediately after the other. A new maneuver for him and, unfortunately, it shows: He misses wildly.
Izra didn't have time to dwell on the horror of seeing Suri disappear in a puff of flame. She'd seen horrible things in her life - and beyond - and learned that, while she wasn't immune to them, she could clamp her reactions down, and deal with them when doing so wasn't as likely to get her or the people with her killed.
"Suri is gone," she reported to the others, her voice neutral. At least there had been fire. For a Djinn, that was a good sign, right?
Still unsure of just how strong the magical field of sleep might be, Izra chose not to get closer, though she did want to wake Koshu.
"Sorry, kitty" she whispered, before magically dousing the sleeping catfolk with 4 gallons of cool water.
His eyes fluttering open, Ahmed looks up at Izra and gets on his feet, feeling somewhat disoriented. He has scarcely taken a look around when Izra announces that Suri is gone. He whips around, thinking that Izra must have just missed her. Letting out a mighty roar in anguish, Ahmed's arms erupt into flames everywhere that isn't covered by the shackles. Moving his hands to gather up the fire, he hurls a ball of it at the Sandwoman, cursing her in an ancient tongue while he does.
With a wail of outrage, Koshu bolted up from where he had slumped, water dripping from his plastered mane. Orienting himself quickly, he sneezed a fine spray, grabbed the flail he had dropped when he had fallen asleep, and attempted to leap back into the fray.
With Koshu already awake, Djehuti turns to shout an ear-piercing scream at the creature.
Torin fires a flurry of blunt arrows. And the sandwoman is blasted to bits. It tries to remain intact but some finishing blows from the rest destroy it for good. Ahmed is particular vehement in expressing his displeasure.
Afterwards, some of the thrown up dirt reveals some items hidden in the sand. You quickly dig it up and find the following:
- +1 Scale Mail
- +1 Light Crossbow
- Cold Iron Crossbow bolts (x5)
- Crossbow bolts (x10)
- Gold Holy Symbol of Sarenrae (worth 25gp)
- 67gp
"Whew," Kwin exhales, wiping a forearm across his brow in relief. "Everyone okay?" He retrieves his sword, then lets his gaze rove over the group. "Where's Suri?"
Djehuti runs a hand through his wet hair to get it out of his face, then kneels to examine the items in the sand. He murmurs a simple spell under his breath and looks closely at the loot. "The armor and crossbow are both enchanted."
Peering dolefully out from under his dripping, sandy mane, Koshukhep also looked around in growing worry, unable to locate Suri any more than Kwin. He turned to Ahmed uneasily, scrubbing sand from his jaw with his fist. "Ahmed? Where did Suri go?"
"She disappeared," Izra said, "puff of flame. Right about the same time Ahmed passed out." Her voice was calm, matter-of-fact, but her face betrayed her concern, as well.
As she talked, she hefted the crossbow that Djehuti had said was enchanted.
"Good work crew. Where did that fire lass run off to. That sandy fellow wasn't that fierce."
Torin will also mention the smell of decay that he detected heading from the western corridor.
Koshukhep's ears flattened in distress. "Ahmed, what happened? Why did Suri disappear? Is she...?"
He sniffed the air when Torin mentioned the smell, but his focus was on Ahmed.
Though concerned, Kwin tries to project an air of confidence for the sake of his companions.
"Oh no worries there, that's just the aroma of wet cat," he says with a grin. A squishy "splat!" rings out as he slaps Koshukhep on the back. "That's a great look for ya, buddy," he chuckles as he takes a quick step out of range.
Ahmed frowns at the questions, looking as concerned and lost as the others. Panic stays in his eyes for a few moments, until what Izra says sinks in. "Puff of flame?" He repeats, and then sighs thankfully. "It's better than I had dared to hope. She's home." As a sad smile spreads over his face, he cleares his throat, looking around at the faces of his friends. "As beings of fire, this world is not our natural home. While I remain chained here, Suri is able to move back and forth between the planes, though not without some difficulty."
"It may take time for her to make her way back to us, but I can help now in ways that I could not before, which means that it won't take centuries, at least." He chuckles. "She knows where we are, and there are a few ceremonies that I can attempt which may help." Glancing around at their surroundings, he frowns. "Though I would rather not do so here."
There is some kind of doubt in Ahmed's eyes that suggest more to the story, and he quickly looks away from the others to focus his vision on something else. Still, a question echoes through his head. 'Why did she go?'
The single emotions that Suri felt more than any others as she stared up at the grand palaces was guilt. To be back in the land of their people, to be able to stand in a place where she and Ahmed had first crossed paths centuries ago, knowing that he might never set foot there again... 'No.' she told herself. 'We will find a way.'
Feeling aimless and lost, Suri wandered the streets, seeing Genie races of all types. She felt as though she had lost Ahmed all over again, and that she was back to square one, to searching for him. She couldn't even know if he was alive. It was possible that the Sandwoman had killed him. Suri's eyes darkened, and she swore to herself that she would eradicate their entire people if that were the case.
"Calm down." She muttered, with an exhausted sigh. "He's alive. You'd know it if he wasn't."
While she believed it to be true, it didn't help set her mind very much at ease, and she wandered through the city, feeling even more alone here than when she combed the deserts by herself. The beauty of the city, the richness of the culture, the rare items for barter, all of it was lost on her. There was only one thing she wanted, and none of the treasures in all the worlds could even come close to matching it.
Relieved at Ahmed's explanation, Koshukhep shook his mane vengefully, spattering Kwin (and everyone else) with water. Then he flung his head back, smoothing the hair down with his hands. The haughty look he awarded Kwin with suggested that he had intended to be soaked and dusted with sand all along.
"You should see a healer about your nose, my friend," he sniffed. "I am named for the sacred crocodiles of the river, and the water loves me. ...Though, I do not love it back quite as much," he admitted, his nostrils flaring a bit in amusement.
"Come. Let us see what it is that reeks as much as Kwin's jokes."
Djehuti listens closely to Ahmed's explanation. "Interesting. I have read about spellcasters who have a special affinity for conjuring beings from other planes. I may be able to assist you with the summoning, if you do not mind my presence at your ritual."
Kwin chuckles and falls in behind Koshukhep.
Reassured that their friend is safe, the Band travels North to the room where they had noticed the stench of decay.
They find an enormous stone table, the marble top is polished and smooth, that runs parallel to the west wall of this large room. A much smaller stone table stands in the east side of the room. Splintered piles of dust and wood lie in the corners and along the walls — the only remains of chairs after untold years. A strong, fetid stench pervades the room. An open, sand-filled hallway lies to the south.
Half a dozen human skulls have been set upon the western table. Each skull is polished clean and balances atop a tarnished silver goblet standing on a tarnished silver dinner plate.
Suddenly the decaying heads skulls float ominously into the air, their rotted teeth eerily clattering all the while.
Koshukhep: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (17) + 3 = 20
Torin: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (15) + 2 = 17
Ahmed: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (12) + 2 = 14
Izra: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (11) + 2 = 13
Djehuti: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (3) + 8 = 11
Kwin: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (4) + 4 = 8
Skulls: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (5) + 2 = 7
"Cripes, what is it with this place!" exclaims Kwin as he whips out a dagger and flings it at the thing animating directly before him.
The dagger severely cracks one of the skulls, but it continues to float in the air.
Torin moves into the room and fires at the closest head:
"Aye, it's a little lively. Head and shoulders odder than that last place."
"With puns like that, you can stay here and I'll go on ahead." Djehuti pulls out his bow again and fires at the furthest floating head.
The arrow thunks into the wooden frame of the door perilously close to one of his companions' heads. "Sorry!"
Stepping aside to allow his companions behind him a clearer shot, Koshukhep raised the dirty flail they had found, thinking that skulls sounded like the perfect target for it. He waited, intending to assault any of the floating skulls that came close enough.